The End of Hyperconsumerism

By Andrew Benett and Ann O'Reilly

What was the last thing you did that
really, truly mattered? What was the last conversation you had about
something more meaningful than a project at work, plans for the weekend,
a novel you read or film you watched? We work a lot, play a little, and
marvel at how quickly time passes. What we don't do is spend much time
pondering why we're doing the things we do or whether there might be a
better way to live. For a long while, this surface-level existence was
enough; but now our priorities are changing. The Great Recession has
yielded much hardship, but we also must credit it for yanking us out of
our ruts and routines and making us reconsider what is really important -
and how satisfying our lives truly have been.

At the tail end of 2009, Euro RSCG Worldwide undertook a
seven-market study to better understand an emerging shift toward what we
refer to as mindful consumption. Whereas in recent decades our
spending had been quick and unthinking (I see, therefore I buy), now it
is becoming more conscious and considered. Our examination of these
patterns forms the basis of our new book, Consumed:
Rethinking Business in the Era of Mindful Spending. What we
discovered in our research is that this change in consumption reflects
far more than a desire for savings or anxiety over an uncertain future;
people are experiencing a deep-seated discontent and desire for change.
Among the 1,500 Americans we surveyed, for example, two-thirds said
society is moving in the wrong direction, while eight in ten complained
that people have become too shallow, focusing too
much on things that don't really matter. Three-quarters worry that
people have grown intellectually lazy. More surprising, two-thirds
actually see an upside to the recession, saying it has served to
remind people of what is really important in life. What the survey
respondents were expressing is unhappiness with life as we have come to
know it and a hunger for more. Not more "stuff," but more
substance and meaning. More purpose and fulfillment. A more satisfying
way of living.

Why the sudden urge for more?
While the economic skies were bright, most of us were kept busy by our
day-to-day affairs as consumers and the eternal quest to accumulate.
Begun in earnest in the years following World War II (an automatic
washer! a percolating coffeepot!), our hyperconsumerist tendencies
accelerated in the 1970s and 80s, when we suddenly realized just how
many things we couldn't bear to live without, whether it be the fad of
the day (Pet Rock, anyone?) or the latest in electronics. As Mad
Magazine astutely noted years ago: "The only reason a great many
American families don't own an elephant is that they have never been
offered an elephant for a dollar down and easy weekly payments."

The problem with our obsessive
consumption--even overlooking such pesky considerations as the
plundering of our natural resources--is that it managed, in the last half
century, to become our culture. In school, we sought to learn
more so we could earn more so we could yearn less and own more. And that
worked out quite well for lots of people (particularly those in the
upper income brackets), until that great killjoy of a downturn sucked
all the fun out of Sub-Zero fridges and 60-inch plasma TVs. Even people
who managed to hold onto their jobs saw their savings plummet and
confidence shaken. We started to become more conscious of what we
bought--and how much we owed. More important, we started to think more
about why we bought and whether all this heretofore mindless
accumulation had really gotten us anywhere. Had our profligate spending
made us happier? More satisfied? Many of us came to the conclusion that
the answer was No. More than a third of the Americans in our survey said
they feel as though they actually have been wasting their lives,
and around half said they are actively trying to figure out what makes
them happy. Six in ten worry that people have become too disconnected
from the natural world, and nearly eight in ten think most people would
be better off if they lived more simply. It turns out that while we did
indeed own more, we actually had less. Less purpose. Less time
for personal relationships. Less joy. But plenty of stress, anxiety,
debt, and irritating clutter.

For all the
disruption and angst it has caused, the global downturn has given us an
opportunity--and motivation--to step off the hyperconsumption treadmill
and consider whether there might be a better way to live. Already,
nearly eight in ten Americans say they are making an effort to improve
how they live and who they are as individuals. For many, as we explore
in Consumed, those personal and lifestyle changes include being
more mindful of their purchases, with large majorities saying it makes
them feel good to save money (87 percent), reduce waste (73 percent),
buy locally (69 percent), and make environmentally friendly choices (65
percent). This is a real change for many, with eight in ten saying their
shopping has become more mindful than it used to be. In their personal
lives, people want to devote more time and attention to community and
friendships (around half sometimes feel they don't have enough close
friends) and are seeking the more purposeful pleasures that come from
focusing less on instant (and constant) material gratification in favor
of a more substantive existence. As part of this new way of living, most
Americans would like to get involved in a "truly important cause" and
just more than half would like to increase the role of spirituality in
their lives.

There are some who suggest the shift
toward mindfulness is no more than a phase--a reaction to the downturn
that will fade away as soon as pocketbooks are flush. What these
analysts fail to take into account are the fundamental economic and
social factors influencing this shift. The simple truth is that the
elements that permitted hyperconsumption to flourish (near-full
employment, easy credit, plentiful natural resources) aren't coming back
anytime soon, if at all. The employment sector is in upheaval, with
many job categories obsolete. Easy credit has all but evaporated, and
the world's burgeoning middle classes will only intensify the pressure
on our increasingly scarce resources. So even if the consumer masses
wanted to go back to mindless excess, they could not. Most important,
people would not choose to return to the old ways of hyperaccumulation
because it was no longer making them happy. Rather than revel in their
heaps of material goods prior to the downturn, many were already
expressing a desire to simplify, to get back to basics and "rightsize"
consuming no more nor less than they truly need. They also were
expressing heightened concern over the impact of their personal
consumption choices on other people and the planet; hence the increased
popularity of organics and Fair Trade, locavorism and the slow food and
travel movements, and the sudden profusion of carbon
footprint calculators.

In much of the
developed world and in particular in the United States, many of us have
experienced a decades-long journey marked by mindless excess, increasing
artificiality, and alienation. Now we are looking for the sorts of
satisfactions that don't come with a price tag and three easy payments.